


Recall Thy Seeds Of Joy

by Lunarium



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Treat, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 19:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11088729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: Fëanor comes to Daurin with a request which his uncle is glad to fulfill, for a small price.





	Recall Thy Seeds Of Joy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amyfortuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/gifts).



Under the glimmering leaves of the reverent trees of Laurelin and Telperion passed a shadow, and a bright and cheery tune followed in the their steps. Fëanáro had to smile to himself. It was not like he had to search far to locate the whereabouts of his uncle Daurin, the elf who had fallen for the sacred trees and had become their arborist, working closely with Yavanna herself. 

Fëanáro himself could not recall the last time he whistled while he went about his work. Perhaps it was a time when he helped his uncle in his own gardens, tending to the bushes. In any case, Daurin would be heartbroken to learn his nephew no longer whistled. His uncle had taught Fëanáro to always whistle to make work light and enjoyable; his uncle taught him many things, but the past couple years had turned into a dark endless drill in his smithy. He wouldn’t call it dull or fun or any of that. It was just work, and it needed to be done lest the alarms in his mind grew louder once more. But one thing was certain: Fëanáro could almost fall asleep listening to his uncle sing, soothing as it was after the long hours in the dark smithy. 

“May words of song forever pour from your lovely lips, though one of my sons may want a word on your style,” Fëanáro called out as greeting. 

Daurin looked up from where he was crouched, collecting some sap from Laurelin, and beamed upon seeing him. “Fëanáro! Dear nephew!” 

He set the bucket down and jumped to his feet, throwing his arms around him. The scent of his uncle enveloped him and he sighed. The last time they had bedded was the night before his wedding to Nerdanel, as was the old tradition of their tribe that stretched far in the ancient lands beyond the sea. Though, as his dearest mentor and confidant, Daurin and he could have kept their relationship, Fëanáro’s work and then raising seven children had kept him well busy. The thought brought a pang of guilt that he had only come here for a selfish reason, especially with Daurin currently embracing him so warmly. 

“Dear uncle,” Fëanáro said. “It has been long, and I must apologize for not having come to see you sooner.” 

“Do not!” Daurin laughed. “You’ve been busy, I know. I’ve heard all the tales! You’re very much like your mother!” 

The words were meant to make him smile, but Fëanáro only felt a little worse. Seeing he had said the wrong thing, Daurin took a step back. 

“Now I must apologize.” 

Fëanáro bowed briefly. “Do not, dear uncle. I have simply nearly worked myself to death…as I am wont to do. A new idea has gripped me, and I’ve grown fixated on it ever since.” 

“Oh?” Smiling again, Daurin folded his arms and regarded Fëanáro with interest. He always enjoyed hearing his ideas. “What’s the new thing you’re forging in that smithy of yours?” 

“Three gems, all of which require light from your trees,” Fëanáro said with a little smirk. By right they were not Daurin’s trees but Yavanna and the Valar’s, and the light for all of the inhabitants of Valinor, but Daurin always got a little thrill whenever Fëanáro referred to them as his trees. 

He didn’t know how Daurin would react to the news. He stood for a few moments, taking in his words, regarding the Two Trees, then back at Fëanáro. 

“You seek to capture light in gemstone?” he finally said, stunned. “I have never heard of such a thing! But then I am not a smith and wouldn’t know a thing. What has given you that idea? A challenge from one of your half-brothers you love so much?” 

The laughter did lighten the mood inside Fëanáro, he had to confess. Daurin had often teased him of the complicated relationship with Ñolofinwë and Arafinwë. 

“It is not by any challenge,” Fëanáro said. He walked towards one of the trees, circling it slowly. “I had a vision, a sudden thought that I must take their light and preserve it, cherish it. If I do not then I fear their lights may extinguish.” 

“Extinguish? But, dear nephew…we are protected.” Daurin’s voice was soft but he stepped closer, watching Fëanáro closely. “The Trees will not come to harm.” 

“But it would be foolish to stand around,” Fëanáro said. “We are not gods and cannot predict the future. Just as you yourself had never predicted you would come to this land, so we cannot predict the future of these lands. I simply wish to protect, from now, what could one day be taken from us. Would it not hurt to take precautions?” 

“Ah.” Daurin slowly paced around the tree, one hand tracing around the bark. “That is a clever thought.” 

Fëanáro bowed his head. “That is why I come to you. I need help in retrieving the light.” 

“And you will do so…without payment?” Fëanáro wasn’t prepared for the quick kiss on the lips. Leaning back, Daurin’s lips quirked into a smirk. Friendly and playful, just as Fëanáro always remembered him. 

“What is your price?” Fëanáro asked. 

Daurin considered the question as he studied him closely. 

“How is Nerdanel?” he asked. “And your children?” 

An arm went around Fëanáro without him noticing, and he realized a second later that he had almost dozed off. Beyond exhausted. He could not even pinpoint how many months he had been working on these gems, or when was the last time he had eaten or spoken with any of his family. It wasn’t that he had abandoned them, but once a thought crawled into his mind he grew obsessed with it until the project had reached fruition. 

And the look in Daurin’s eyes said that he understood. He tugged Fëanáro away from the trees and down a path, and he understood: a small walk to awaken the mind, refreshen his senses, and get some time alone between them. 

The scent of the berries were sweet as they passed the bushes, and the wind carried only as a gentle breeze. He had not realized how much he needed a walk like this. 

He told Daurin of his wife and each of his seven sons, his heart swelling with pride each time his uncle’s face lit with admiration and joy at hearing their accomplishments. When Fëanáro was done, he turned the attention to Daurin’s own life, prodding him to speak of his life since they had last conversed. 

As Daurin spoke, they passed by flowers with a scent that brought Fëanáro back to a glade, another time and place, under Telperion’s light. The grass had been warm under them, as young as Fëanáro learning each intimate stroke, caress, and kiss. 

“Those were joyous times,” Fëanáro said. He did not have much time to know his mother, but Daurin was there, told him all he knew. And he showed him the joys of the wilderness, and the joy their bodies could bring. 

He was unaware of how the road wind back to the Two Trees, only that he was suddenly standing below them, in the middle. Daurin instructed Fëanáro to hold his hands out. 

“Recall those moments of joy,” Daurin said. “Let it fill you up as you gaze into the shared light of Laurelin and Telperion.”

Fëanáro did as instructed, remembering again their kisses from years past. He gazed into the Tree’s light until they began to hurt his eyes and he closed them shut. 

A moment later came a rustling of leaves, and suddenly a heavy object dropped onto his palm. Fëanáro opened his eyes in surprise. 

A golden fruit of Laurelin lay neatly in his hands, wrapped in a large, brightly shimmering silver leaf of Telperion. 

“They must have liked what they saw in your mind,” Daurin said, “for they gave you their light freely.” 

Fëanáro marveled at the gift of the two Lights in his hands before turning to kiss his uncle. 

“And I must thank you,” he said. “Some time away from my smithy was something I was not aware I needed. And now with the Lights in my hands, I feel a new strength and alertness to return to work.” 

Daurin smiled. “I am happy to help. Please, do see me again soon.” 

Fëanáro promised, and the two shared on final kiss before parting ways.


End file.
